


The King and I

by cemm



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Military Kink, Military Uniforms, Not Canon Compliant, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:38:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9409784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemm/pseuds/cemm
Summary: John takes Sherlock to go see Martin Freeman in Richard III as an experiment. God he loves being right.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Found notes for this fic and decided to post it especially since we now know Sherlock's military kink is canon!

Sherlock was in a foul mood. He should be at home working on the mould experiment in their bathtub not standing in a bloody theater lobby.

“I don’t understand why we are going to this. You know I don’t like this sort of thing,”He rumbled to his blogger standing next to him.  
“But I do, you big git and it was kind of your brother to give us the tickets,”replied John elbowing the sulking detective in the ribs as a not so subtle reminder to lower his booming voice before Captain Watson decides to lower it for him. Most of the time John wasn’t really convinced this was good motivation. The retired Army captain suspected that his flatmate and lover had a thing for boys in uniform.

“I don’t trust him. He is up to something.,”whispered the detective.

“Relax, Maybe you will get squirted with some of the blood.”

“Hmpf! It isn’t even real blood,”replied the even grumpier detective.

“Yeah, fucking shame that is,”joked John trying desperately to keep the detective from bolting from the theater. It was imperative that they see this play.

They finally made it into the theater. Mycroft had wasted no expense. Their seats were right in front of the stage. They were handed plastic ponchos for the blood and Sherlock looked at them as though they had personally offended him. Of course the posh git had never worn a plastic poncho. He probably has never been to Disney World either. John had pleasant memories of the one family vacation he took as a young boy to the Magic Kingdom. Hell he probably still had the Mickey Mouse poncho he had worn on the splash ride. John quickly took the offending item from the grumpy detective and herded them along to their seats. He reminded Sherlock to use the poncho to shield his very expensive suit from the obviously fake blood.

John had finally got them settled into the seats without too many death threats being uttered at his large cranky companion. The plastic was safely stored between their seats. The light dimmed and the play began. ‘Showtime’ giggled John to himself. Martin Freeman walked out on stage and beside him John heard a quick intake of breath. 'Gotcha', thought John. He watched the detective's eyes go from a cerulean blue to almost black with arousal. John should feel jealous of his partner's response to the actor on the stage. Normally he would except in this case it was like the good doctor was looking into a mirror, albeit a bearded one. Sherlock had hated his mustache but it appears he might not be so adverse to a beard.

The detective fidgeted throughout the entire performance. When the time came, John covered them up with the ponchos before the blood flowed, accidentally on purpose brushing oh so lightly across the detective's very interested member. A sound that sounded quite like a moan escaped the pink swollen lips the detective had been chewing on during the play. The consulting detective was covered in a thin sheen of moisture. His erection was straining against the obscenely expensive and tight trousers he wore. His eyes looked like black onyx globes in the low lights of the theater. 

At the end, John smirked and grabbed Sherlock by the sleeves and dragged him backstage. Mycroft had thoughtfully arranged for them to meet the cast after the performance. John made small talk with the cast while patiently waiting for the play's star to emerge. Sherlock quietly vibrated beside him not saying a word. Finally Martin Freeman emerged freshly showered wearing a fitted suit with an open neck shirt. Sherlock let out a sound that sounded very much like a moan and then quickly looked down with a faint blush beginning to creep up that alabaster skin. John chuckled softly beside him. The doctor quickly manhandled his detective over to where Martin was speaking with a few cast mates. 

"Dr. John Watson," John said extending his hand to the star," and this is my partner Sherlock Holmes," he said pointing to the detective. Martin shook his hand and took in the obviously aroused 6 ft detective next to him, an evil grin spread across his face. Martin looked at John.

"Really?" he asked.  
"Really." John responded watching the blush creep further up the detective's neck and across those chiseled cheekbones. Sherlock mumbled something about a cold drink and quickly excused himself from his doctor and evil twin. Both of whom watched the detective's ample backside as he sauntered off. 

Martin licked his lips and returned his focus to John and said, "You know I'm not gay."  
"Neither am I, but my god look at that arse."  
"Tomorrow at 7 ok?' asked Martin.  
"Perfect, It's 221B Baker Street, and Martin," said John.  
"Yeah?"  
"Wear the uniform."


End file.
